


Place

by Frenzy5150



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Doubt, and that's just the author
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 16:19:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15440925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frenzy5150/pseuds/Frenzy5150
Summary: It's after the Great Thaw, and suddenly the world is wide open. Can Anna find her place in it? Written for Kristanna Christmas in July over on Tumblr. Disclaimer: i own nothing, this is for fun only, etc.





	Place

Anna bounced out of bed at first light. She loved mornings again. Even since last month’s thaw, ever since the doors were no longer perpetually closed, mornings were no longer something to be dreaded and avoided. For the first time in forever, Anna wasn’t faking her enthusiasm. She was honestly optimistic.

 

She threw on her day dress and twisted her hair into a pair of plaits. Time to see what the world was up to! She opened her door and smiled, giddy at the sunlight streaming through the open windows. She wondered if Elsa was up yet. Ooh, or Kristoff! She turned towards the guest wing when her stomach rumbled. Ok, maybe breakfast first.

 

The halls echoed with the clicks of her heels as she skipped to the kitchen. The staff buzzed about the large ovens and broad workspaces, their sober uniforms immaculate under starched white aprons. A stout man spooned broth over a roast while a lanky boy restoked the oven’s fire. A pair of round women with sunny cheeks spoke softly to each other as they kneaded dough, the flour on their boards the only sign of mess in the tidy kitchen. The kitchen mistress glided from station to station, tasting and testing and giving direction with clipped, businesslike words she expected to be followed to the letter.

 

Anna wandered over to the mistress and smiled wide. “Good morning! I’d like to help!”

 

“Your highness,” the mistress exclaimed, bending her knee in the smallest of curtsies. “I’m not sure that’s wise, or proper…”

 

“Oh, don’t worry about me Mistress Alysse, I love helping! Just tell me what to do.”

 

Mistress Alysse blinked. Giving orders in her own kitchen wasn’t the problem. An over-eager princess who was now too old to distract with safe yet meaningless kitchen tasks was the problem. “Well, I suppose Hilde and Marit would welcome a hand with the bread.”

 

“I think I can do more than knead bread, Mistress Alysse,” Anna’s grin was cheeky, oblivious to the mistress’s pained frown. “I was thinking pastries, or maybe truffles? Ooh, or a big chocolate cake! With icing and tiers and—”

 

“Pastries,” Alysse interrupted, hiding her growing chagrin. “Pastries would be lovely.”

 

“Great!” Anna beamed. She flitted about the kitchen, gathering supplies and dumping them in a haphazard pile on the center work table. In less time it took to blink, Anna was covered in flour to her elbows, had butter on her dress, and smears of chocolate on her face. Alysse shuddered at the growing cloud of chaos billowing out from her formerly spotless center table. Anna struggled with a jar of berry preserves, knocking it on the edge of the table until it burst open, splattering sugared lingonberries as far away as Hilde and Marit’s bread-making station.

 

“Princess!” Alysse exclaimed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

 

“Oops?” Anna’s half-smile faltered under Alysse’s disapproving frown.

 

“Your highness,” Alysse took a deep breath, “Your highness, perhaps we should take care of the pastries. You should get yourself tidied up. Her majesty your sister would like to see you no doubt.”

 

“You’re right, Mistress. But this is my fault; I should help clean up…”

 

“No!” Alysse barked, but softened her tone when Anna flinched. “No, your highness, we’ll take care of it. You shouldn’t keep the Queen waiting.”

 

Anna sighed. She knew a dismissal when she heard one.

 

* * *

 

 

Anna sulked as she cleaned up but brightened when she overheard Gerda mention that Elsa was meeting with Ambassadors from the mainland. She pulled her still-damp hair into an elegant braided chignon and carefully laced herself into one of her most dignified dresses. Its high collar and long sleeves were stuffy and boring as a day full of penmanship practice, but she looked the proper princess instead of the flighty spare.

 

She practiced her proper walk, gliding as a princess should as she made her way to the royal meeting rooms. The herald announced her, and she gave a graceful nod to the half dozen men who rose and bowed to her. Queen Elsa smiled at her, bright and honest, yet her brows crinkled with worry. “Sorry to interrupt,” Anna murmured as she curtsied then took her seat at her sister’s side.

 

The ambassadors all murmured pleasantries, then resumed their discussions. Anna tried to pay attention and did her best not to fidget in her seat, but it wasn’t easy. The balcony doors were open, and a gentle breeze blew in from the gardens. Birds chirped happily, oblivious to the veiled words and false smiles of these men in their crisp coats with so many ribbons and medals they looked like small boys playing generals. Elsa sat comfortably, tall and regal, her words clear and sure as she guided the conversations away from petty squabbles and back to pressing issues.

 

It was silly. The ambassadors droned on about great insults that, to Anna, sounded like petty grievances. A minor snub at a ball in France was grounds for a lifelong feud with Luxenbourg? Austria not giving Prussia exclusive rights to its entire wheat harvest at scandalously low prices was a deliberate attempt at starving a generous nation? Belgium demanding the majority stake of Italy’s wine exports or it would refuse to raise its chocolate exports by five percent?

 

Ok maybe threatening war over chocolate was reasonable, Anna thought, but the rest?

 

“I don’t get why you don’t just work together,” Anna blurted. Every eye at the table glared at her.

 

“I mean, it’s obvious you all could get what’s fair if you’d just be reasonable and work together,” she explained. It was so obvious; how could they miss it? “Why try to get more from the other country just because you can? If you’d just agree to what’s needed instead of wasting time being selfish and greedy, we could all go outside and enjoy the day instead of being cooped up in here arguing until your mustaches fall off.”

 

The room trembled with offended silence. The ambassadors turned interesting shades of red and gaped like landed fish. Even Elsa blinked like a surprised owl before clearing her throat. “Let’s take a break, gentlemen. We’ll reconvene an hour before lunch.”

 

The men stood, straightened their coats between indignant mutters as they stalked off. A few even forgot to bow to the Queen.

 

“That wasn’t very diplomatic, Anna,” Elsa chided after the door closed.

 

“Am I missing something? Why can’t they stop trying to hurt their neighbors and help each other instead?”

 

“International Diplomacy is…” Elsa rubbed her brow. “Well, it can be tricky.”

 

“How tricky can it be?” Anna scoffed. “I’m pretty sure sharing and manners are taught in nursery school.”

 

“True,” Elsa conceded. “But I need them to change their course, not see the error of their ways.”

 

“But why coddle them? They’re just rude jerks being rude.”

 

“Because they won’t change if they’re mad. If they’re embarrassed or indignant they’ll dig their heels in just for spite.”

 

“I don’t get why you put up with their rude… rudeness!” Anna folded her arms.

 

Elsa sighed. “It’s a lovely day out in the gardens. No need for both of us to suffer.” She placed a slim hand on Anna’s arm, squeezing gently. “Why don’t you go see what Kristoff is up to?”

 

Anna’s shoulders slumped. She knew a dismissal when she heard one.

 

* * *

 

 

Anna grumbled as she changed clothes _yet again_. Why did people keep chasing her off? She just wanted to _help_ , to _learn_ , and nobody could be bothered to _teach_. It was frustrating.

 

Well, there was one person she knew wouldn’t chase her off. She plopped her winter cap on her head and flew out the door, throwing her magenta cape over her shoulders as she ran. She skidded to halt in the courtyard and looked around. Kristoff and his fellow ice harvesters were mounted up and heading to the gate. “Kristoff!” she called with a wave.

 

Arendelle’s first Ice Master and Deliverer turned and a huge smile split his face. Sven slowed enough for Anna to leap and catch Kristoff’s outstretched hand, then sped up as she settled on the clapboard seat. “Hey!”

 

“Hey yourself, feistypants,” Kristoff grinned, blushing as the princess grinned back at him.

 

“Whatcha up to?” Anna asked.

 

“The crews have been working the lower lake for the last three days. We’re heading up to gather their harvest and take it to the cooling houses tomorrow.”

 

“Oh good,” Anna beamed. “I didn’t really pack for a long trip.”

 

“You want to come with us?” Kristoff blinked.

 

“Of course!”

 

“And Elsa’s ok with it?”

 

“It was practically her idea,” Anna placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “Besides,” she huffed, sitting ramrod straight and putting on airs. “telling a bunch of old men acting like spoiled children that they’re acting like spoiled children ‘isn’t very diplomatic, Anna.’”

 

Kristoff laughed, and Anna giggled in pure delight. “You should’ve seen it! Their mustaches puffed out like pigeon feathers and they wrapped themselves in their titles as they harrumphed out of the meeting room.”

 

“I’m glad my title isn’t real. I’d hate to have it turn me into a pigeon.”

 

“Oh stop, of course it’s real,” she laughed, and they chatted the entire way to the lower lakes. In the month since the thaw, they shared just as many random conversations as shy smiles and soft looks. Neither minded that they were awkward; in fact, it helped them grow closer. Her mittened hand was firmly in his before Arendelle was out of sight.

 

The lower lakes weren’t far above the treeline. Anna could hear the harvesters’ work chanties as they neared the base camp. She hummed along, recognizing the tunes if not the words. The sleds pulled to a stop and the men hopped out and got right to work. “I want to help!” Anna declared. “What can I do to help?”

 

“Let’s find Halvor,” Kristoff replied, unhitching Sven. “He’s the foreman in charge.”

 

They walked along the shoreline, Anna wide-eyed and grinning at all she saw. Men in thick leathers and furs used serrated metal saw to cut large blocks of ice from the frozen lake surface. Others used long hooks and curious scissor-like clamps to haul the ice out of the water and slide it to shore, where men with axes chopped the blocks into small enough chunks to heft into the waiting sleds.

 

“Ho, Kristoff!” a squat man as broad as he was tall waved them over. “And your highness,” he tipped his cap to her. “The boys are powerful glad to see you.”

 

“How soon can the ice be loaded?”

 

“Why the rush, son?” Halvor elbowed him and chuckled. “The fresh air too much for you? Can’t wait to get back to civilization and haggle with thin-blooded lowland merchants?”

 

“You want to do it?”

 

“Ha!” Halvor barked, slapping Kristoff on the back. “Better you than me! I’m too old for that nonsense.”

 

Anna wandered over to the lake’s edge. Most of the harvesters kept to their work, but a few doffed their hats and called out greetings to the princess. Anna waved back to each of them, beaming as she walked. She watched them as they worked, admiring the smooth efficiency of their movements. She even mimicked heaving an axe over her head and giving it a mighty swing. How hard could it be?

 

“Careful, miss!” an older harvester nearly as tall as Kristoff warned. “You’re on the ice, and it could break out from under you.”

 

“It’s holding everyone else up no problem, and you’re all much bigger than I am,” Anna frowned, confused. “Why would it break under me?”

 

“Your boots are smaller than ours, your Highness, so your weight isn’t as spread out. Besides, ice is a fickle mistress. Best to always be on your guard.”

 

“I will,” she promised with a smile, glad someone was offering advice instead of just chasing her away. Kristoff walked up to her and settled a mittened hand on her waist. “What can I do to help?” she asked.

 

“I was going to set up camp,” Kristoff began, then he caught the sour look on her face. “buuuut I was also going to check on the men cutting ice and see who needs a hand.”

 

“Let’s do that!” she hugged his arm, then all but bounced along the shoreline with him in tow. She eyed the workers out on the lake, with their long hand saws and great metal plows hitched to sure-footed horses. She frowned when Kristoff pulled her up short near the men chopping blocks on the lake’s edge. “Why are we stopping here?” Anna gazed longingly out at the center of the lake.

 

“Only seasoned harvesters work the deep water,” Kristoff explained.

 

“But…”

 

“Everyone has to start somewhere, feistypants.” She pouted, but didn’t complain beyond that. “New hands usually haul blocks, but maybe you want to try something else?”

 

She perked up when he pulled an ice-splitting axe from his pack. She gleefully took it from his outstretched hand, wobbling a bit on the ice before she found her feet. “I can do this! Show me what to do.”

 

Kristoff grabbed a nearby axe, hefting it to check its balance. It rose above his head and, muscles flexing, he drove it through the block, cleaving the ice cleanly in two. Anna blinked, distracted by the practiced grace of Kristoff’s strength. She shook her head and grinned down at her axe, flexing her fingers around the haft. “Alright, I got this!” She planted her booted feet, swung her axe high, and wobbled a bit before slamming it down on her much smaller block of ice. The shock of the blow stung her hands, shot up her arms, and rattled her teeth. And the block was still stubbornly whole before her, the little divot she made all but mocking her. She glared at it.

 

“Not bad for a first swing,” Kristoff said, walking back to his pack of tools. “Want to try the ice gaff next?”

 

“No no, I’ve got this!” Anna twisted the axe handle in her gloved hands. She swung it hard above her head, the weight of it causing her to stumble back and do an odd little pirouette to right herself.

 

“Anna, wait…” Kristoff warned.

 

“I’ve got this!” and she heaved with all her might.

 

“Anna, watch out!” Kristoff yelled, but it was too late. Those few steps moved her too far from her block, and her axe cleaved into the surface of the lake with a resounding _crack_. The crack echoed ominously, rumbling louder until it thundered across the lake. Anna gaped in shock as she watched the harvesters shout and dive away, fleeing the fissure spreading from her ill-fated axe strike. She tried to scream out a warning, but the world disappeared out from under her, and she was falling.

 

And then she was so cold it burned, and then rising, and spinning, and Anna fought against each conflicting sensation until they all came crashing to a halt and she was sandwiched between icy cold and heavy warmth.

 

“Anna? Anna!” She blinked, crackling the ice crystals freezing her lashes together, and stared up into a pair of terrified brown eyes. “K-k-Kristoff?”

 

“Oh thank the gods,” she felt his weight pull her in tighter, felt the squish of wet clothes pressed together, his breath painfully warm on her frigid cheek. She clung to him, to his warmth, and struggled to remember how they got into this mess.

 

“Oh no, the men!” Anna exclaimed, remembering, struggling to stand. All around her Ice Harvesters helped each other back to their feet. Two shouted out names, looking for anyone missing, while a half dozen struggled to calm a pair of horses harnessed to a half-submerged sled.

 

“The men can take care of themselves,” Kristoff pulled her against him, sharing what little warmth he could. “You fell into the water. We have to get out of these wet clothes.”

 

“But this is my fault!”

 

“We can’t help if we’re frozen to death.”

 

“Kristoff!” Halvor bellowed, heavy steps shaking the ice as he ran to them. Cool eyes raked them from head to toe, taking in the cracked ice, the fallen axe, their soaked clothing. “Lars! Henrik! Get the warming tent set up now!”

 

“It’s already full up, sir!”

 

“Well, tell them to make room for the princess.”

 

“No!” Anna objected.

 

“Princess…”

 

“No,” she stepped forward, hands on hips. “I will not take another man’s place,” she glared at them, daring them to disobey her.

 

Halvor rubbed his bearded jaw, weighing mutinous thoughts. Anna couldn’t help but cross her arms and shiver, despite Kristoff pulling her back into his embrace.

 

“Alright fine,” Halvor grumbled. “Get yourselves changed into some spare leathers, then take the princess back to town.”

 

“But--!”

 

“No buts, your highness,” Halvor pinned her with a glare. “I won’t risk you to hypothermia.”

 

“I’ve been frozen before, Master Foreman,” Anna shot back. She cringed inwardly when she felt Kristoff flinch, but she refused to back down. “This is minor compared to that, and I won’t have your operation held up over an inconvenience.”

 

“Your safety is not an inconvenience, your Highness,” Halvor replied without a hint of remorse. “The men will follow on the loaded sleds. This lake’s no longer safe to harvest, so they’ll return to help us clear out. And since they’ll be on loaded sleds, you won’t get mad at your Ice Master if he travels too fast for them to keep up. I won’t have the Princess put in harm’s way on my watch.” And with that, Halvor turned and barked more orders to his men.

 

The burn of the icy lake water was nothing compared to the pain of yet another dismissal.

 

* * *

 

 

Things were supposed to be different now that the gates were open. Better. So why did people still chase her away?

 

Anna felt like a fool. It was her fault the harvesters had to abandon the lake. And lost a good chunk of their work. And several of their sleds. And now she sat bundled in borrowed clothes, wrapped up in furs like a parcel to be put back in its place.

 

Kristoff wore borrowed clothes as well, too snug to be comfortable but not as comically ill-fitting as her own tunic and trousers. They’d left the loaded sleds behind almost as soon as the lake was out of sight, and Kristoff didn’t look the least bit repentant about it either. “You don’t have to rush back so fast,” Anna groused.

 

“I won’t let you freeze again,” Kristoff said, jaw set in a hard line. Any contriteness Anna may have felt was drowned in stubborn anger.

 

“I could order you to slow down,” she challenged.

 

He glanced at her, and she could see pain behind his own stubbornness. “Please don’t.”

 

Anna hunched her shoulders and grumbled under her breath. Why did this keep happening?! All she wanted to do was help, and learn, and actually _do_ something for a change! She was tired of reading about life in dusty books, listening to it from behind closed doors, watching it from shuttered windows. She wanted to live it! She ached to dig her hands into it, to dive in and experience it all, to stop being a pretty yet useless curio locked up and forgotten on a high shelf. She wanted to find her place in the world, and she was _sick to death_ of being belittled and coddled. You would think Elsa and Kristoff would understand that, wouldn’t they?

 

Didn’t they?

 

Anna jerked up in her seat, blood draining from her already pallid face. Her sister, Kristoff, Master Halvor, even the Kitchen Mistress. They weren’t coddling her, they were keeping her from ruining things! That’s why everyone sends her away: she breaks everything she touchs. She was too flighty, too simple, too soft, too… too Anna. She was worse than a doll on a marble pedestal, she was a wandering disaster waiting to strike. It wasn’t just that she was in the way, either. Everything she did, every place she went, suffered because of her. She made things worse for the people she loved just by being there. By being Anna.

 

She’d never felt more useless in her life. She didn’t belong in the castle. She didn’t belong on the Mountain. She didn’t belong _anywhere_.

 

“I have no place,” she breathed, her voice an anguished whisper.

 

“Sorry about that,” Kristoff shifted away, clearly misunderstanding her. He eyed her askance, brows drawn in worry at her ashen face and complete lack of animation. He urged Sven onward, eager to get her home and warm again.

 

The rest of the trip back to Arendelle was silent. He would’ve though her asleep, except even in sleep Anna was never this quiet. No, the only time he ever saw her this stiff and lifeless was a month ago, on the fjord, when she succumbed to the ice that froze her heart. He pulled her close, but her rigid body resisted his efforts. He tucked the furs tighter around her, unsure what else to do for her. Even Sven sensed it, and he rushed down the mountain without additional urging.

 

The guards saw them coming and threw open the gates. Servants swarmed the sled with warm blankets and cups of hot glogg. They clucked and worried over Anna, who moved with a lifeless formality despite their hovering. The whole scene was achingly familiar to a month ago, when Kristoff brought her here and watched them take her away. She glanced over her shoulder that day as they took her out of his life and closed the gate in his face.

 

They didn’t close the gates on him this time.

 

But she didn’t look back.

 

* * *

 

 

_Who am I?_

 

The question echoed in Anna’s mind as she sat alone in her room, the castle staff finally leaving her in peace after she refused to bend to their coddling. You would think that thirteen years waiting alone outside her sister’s door with nothing but her own mind for company she’d know who she was.

 

But she didn’t.

 

Was she just a spare? A placeholder? A title? A tag-along? Why was the only thing she could identify about herself that didn’t involve someone else was a screw-up?

 

No. She was more than that. She had to be. She loved Elsa and Kristoff, and she had to be the best Anna she could be for them and for herself.

 

She hoped.

 

Well, thirteen years outside a closed door taught her that waiting around and hoping wouldn’t get anything done. Anna knew she had to do things for herself.

 

* * *

 

 

Kristoff had tried to follow Anna into the castle proper, but the servants blocked the way. He started to argue, but Sven refused to be stabled by anyone but him, so he had to tend to the grouchy reindeer. Then the other sleds caught up, and the Ice Master had to see to the men and the ice. And he had to change out of his borrowed leathers and into something more suited for the late summer lowland heat. And he was summoned to see the Queen. It took longer than he wished to calm her fears, what with the both of them short-tempered with worry over Anna.

 

They hurried to her room, the Queen easily keeping pace with Kristoff’s long strides. He knocked on her door, for once not worried about scuffing the intricate rosemaling with his rough hands.

 

No response.

 

He knocked a second time, his growing fear echoing in his forceful taps on the painted wood. He looked down at the queen, brows crimped with concern. Elsa didn’t bother to knock. She opened the door and strode in.

 

The room looked ransacked, even worse than usual. Drawers pulled from their bureaus, closet doors spread wide and dresses tossed about.

 

And Anna was gone.


End file.
